


Manhide

by jasmiinitee



Series: Autocrats [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alfheim, Asgard, Baldr and Loki are weird friends, But really this is just a bunch of people arguing, But taking some of the themes, Fantastic Racism, Gen, I'm serious about the racism and violence though, Jotun Loki, Jotunheim, Mentions of Violence, My favourite thing to write about, Nasty imperialism, Not entirely Ragnarök compliant, mixed mcu and norse mythology into a weird Politics!AU, post TDW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmiinitee/pseuds/jasmiinitee
Summary: Asgard was a lot of things, but a realm of peace it was not. Gods of war and all their heirs were just good at pretending otherwise. Being both a sworn xenophobe and now a part of an ethnic minority, and being taught to be the strongest advocate for monarchy but now being excluded from its benefits, are making Loki's life a bit more difficult than he had anticipated.Part of a plotless AU where Loki (after being disowned and exiled to Jötunheim) returns to Asgard to slither his way into the highest circle of political advisors to the crown.





	Manhide

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone  
> I was supposed to write pretty much anything else than this pile of unsorted little plot bits, but this was something I managed to actually _finish_ for now, so this is what you get. Let me know if you want me to write more one-shots set in the same AU so it would actually start to make some sense too.
> 
> I didn't want to write the tags all too detailed because I don't want to spoil everything but yeah, we all know that Asgard isn't really all that nice.

A slight drizzle of rain swept over Asgard. The meeting room of the High Council was sadly very high in physical terms as well. It didn’t quite beat the tower where royal astrologists worked, but it was close. Wind howled outside and ruffled the robes and beards of all councilmen. Shimmering image of Yggdrasill flickered atop the centre of the table, seemingly just as bothered by the weather. 

“Tyr, I beg you, close the windows. There’s a terrible winter chill outside,” Freyr asked, and pulled his silken Vanaheim shirt’s collar up. Tyr nodded and stood up with a resigned expression.  
“Inside as well, I presume,” Bragi grumbled, when the door groaned.  
“It’s barely harvest, my fellows” Baldr said, but the sound of fast-paced steps had him looking over his shoulder. He let out a sigh. 

Loki strode in, coattails muddy and his hair a tangled mess, and stopped dead in his tracks by his seat. He didn’t make a move to sit or to greet anyone.  
Something heavy smacked against the table.

“Can any of you tell me what this might be?” Loki asked, sounding steadier and calmer than the deep blue flush across his face and ears would have suggested.  
“It looks like a… badly worn leather bag. A grey one,” Bragi replied and ground his jaw. “Do you need a round of applause,now, or a knighthood of some kind?”  
Loki closed his eyes for a moment and huffed out a soft breath.  
“You’re sharp as ever, Bragi.”  
“Oh, for the sake of Urd! You come baring in here an hour late with a rucksack. I should have known better than to actually let -” Bragi said and raised his voice, but he was cut off by a low and clear one.  
“Councilman Bragi, please, calm down and let the secretary sit down before further discussion,” Forseti said, and that was that. It wasn’t yet noon, and every member of the High Council was already falling into different stages of misery. 

“Secretary, we started the meeting three quarters ago. You’re very late,” Forseti said and folded his tan hands over his papers, turning a stern look in Loki’s direction. Loki stood still for a heartbeat, staring back, before making a small jagged gesture with his head.  
“And you have my most sincere apologies for that, Lord Chairman, really, you do,” he said slowly. “I did my best, but unfortunately some things cannot be rushed. I was preparing for -”  
“Oh, things. That is specific. Like that poor little working wench you’ve got -”  
“Bragi!” Tyr and Forseti both yelled. Forseti looked like he was on the verge of losing his patience, which was very rare, and Tyr looked like he hadn’t had one to begin with.

“Do I bring up your sad and unsatisfied wife during these meetings?” Loki asked and frowned, but didn’t so much as look at Bragi, when he rubbed at his beard and grumbled under his breath.  
“Oh, I would have your head…”  
“No, I do not,” Loki pressed on. “And I appreciate that you respect my personal life as I do yours.”

“A prince’s life is hardly a personal -” Freyr huffed and Baldr joined in, raising his voice to calm things down.  
“Come now, let’s all -”  
“And I am not a prince,” Loki cut them off and lifted his chin, facing Freyr. “You needn’t treat me as such. And, since we’re on the topic, how is your sister, Prince Freyr of Alfheim? Have you seen Freya recently?”  
Before Freyr had a chance to jump over the table to Loki’s side, Tyr slammed his hands against the table and stood up from his seat.  
“Everyone, I urge you, sit down and be silent! Now,” he said. “Even if for a moment.” 

Slowly, Freyr sat back in his seat, and Bragi buried his face in his hands with a heavy groan. Loki’s hands twitched a little before he folded them behind his back. There was a short silence before Tyr nodded.  
“Thank you,” he said and sat back down as well. Forseti nodded his thanks.

“Secretary,” Forseti said calmly and looked up at Loki, still somehow looking down on his nose.  
“I must ask you to sit down for a minute to hear a brief summary of what this council has already established today. Luckily your colleague,” he gestured towards Baldr, “is taking notes. I must still emphasise that with as few members as the High Council presently has, you should make an effort to be on time.”  
“As I said just moments prior -”  
“Sit down, Loki.”

And Loki sat down. Forseti asked Baldr to summarise the start of the meeting, mostly some of the plans for their future discussion. There should be a small delegation coming from Alfheim next week, assembled by Freyr as he pleased, to discuss better trade deals and further academic exchange.  
Loki listened in silence, nodding every now and then, but his face tight and expressionless. He held his hands folded before him, next to the rugged leather bag.

“Are you done?” he asked, when Baldr took a deep breath.  
“I think that was all,” Baldr said and closed his notes. “We were about to start a discussion over whether or not we need to do more public work here, to ensure that everything goes smoothly. I can’t remember when it was that we last had an elven chieftain visiting, let alone several.”  
“It was… when there was the big… the sea-serpent, stranded ashore, and they wanted to be the ones to get it back to sea,” Bragi said and waved his hand.  
“Oh, yes, the lost one.”

“Now that this is all over with,” Loki raised his voice and stood up again, “I would like to present a… little notion that I have been working on, during this past week. If that suits you, lords?” he asked and leaned over the table, clearly trying his best not to sound frustrated over the delay.  
“I think - with your permission, chairman,” Tyr said and looked over to Forseti, “that the first turn to speak should be granted to the secretary, as he so clearly wishes to share his findings with us.” Loki looked at the both of them, and only relaxed a little after Forseti nodded.  
“Permission to speak is granted, Secretary Loki,” he said, but gestured for him to wait before adding, “Please. Do keep in mind that our topic for the following weeks is not… manufacture of goods, or the sorry state of leatherwork these days -” a pointed look at Bragi “- but inter-realm relations.”  
“Oh, I’m aware. Thank you,” Loki said, in a politely ungrateful tone.

“I want to ask my previous question again - and I do ask that you bear with me, there is a point that I plan on reaching”, he started, straightening his sleeves a bit before pointing a hand at the bag he had slammed on the table. “Do you know what this is?”

“I think you want us to give the wrong answer, so I’m going to echo Bragi,” Baldr said, lifting up both hands as if to say ‘yes, I know, sounds strange’. “It looks like an antique rucksack. One for utility and heavy use.” Loki pulled a face like he was trying to hold back either a laugh or a sneer, but gave a curt nod instead.  
“You’re correct on both assumptions, Councilman Baldr, it is a rucksack for hard conditions. Except antique, I dated it to… perhaps a decade or two after the time of my,” the pause was short, but it was there, before Loki finished his sentence, “My birth.”  
“So it’s from the Peace Years?” Tyr asked, mildly interested and slightly more suspicious. Loki looked at him, Freyr scoffed.  
“Warless Years, Tyr,” Baldr politely corrected. Bragi rubbed his face when he went on, and muttered something behind his red beard.  
“Excuse me?” Tyr asked. “The war ended then. Laufey’s armies were beaten.”  
“There was no peace treaty made until after a century and we all know that,” Baldr said. Loki looked at the both of them and cleared his throat. Tyr nodded his apologies and Baldr leaned back. “Excuse me, secretary, chairman. I only wish that we could stick to correct terms.”  
Loki looked at him for a while, mouth a tight line, before nodding and looking down at the bag in front of him. 

“Thank you, Baldr, indeed,” he said. “These were very popular both before and after the Ice Wars. Moreso after, during the - as you provided - the Warless Years. A hunter’s trophy of a sort. And it’s still not quite what I had in mind when I tracked h- this thing down,” Loki said and smiled dryly, still skirting around his issue. He ghosted his fingers over a wide and coarse-looking rawhide strap, but left the bag alone and quickly straightened his posture.  
Freyr leaned forward in his seat and placed his hands on the table, cocking his head to the side.  
“Were you running around the city the whole morning?”  
“Yes,” Loki said. “And around the country yesterday. The day before that I raked through the whole palace from the east wing to the west, and from the cellars to as high as they would let me climb the towers. I have been asking people, questions and days of research, and coming fairly close to giving up entirely, mind you. I found several things somewhat like this one -” he nodded at the bag “- but not what I was looking for. And yes, Bragi, yes, go on, fumble with it like a child while I am speaking,” he snapped.  
Bragi pulled his hand back and rolled his eyes.

“Today I - well, I was running around the city,” Loki said, sounding almost like it was a slightly amusing joke. “I had finally got a piece of solid advice - and I really had to work for that one - to go and ask a woman who sells bags and purses and whatnot. Near the Old Architect’s Bridge. She had hung it up as a curiosity in her shop. For sale as used quality goods. In the city centre,” he explained and nodded his head to the vague direction of ‘outside’. Bragi opened his mouth.  
“She wasn’t very helpful either, when I started asking about it,” Loki added quickly, and this time the sneer seeped through his carefully forced smile.

“And you are still planning on reaching that point of yours…?” Bragi asked, but Baldr was leaning against his crossed fingers, Forseti had pulled back, and Tyr was looking more serious than moments prior.  
“Oh, how clumsy of me to have placed it on the table wrong side up,” Loki said and closed his eyes in mock embarrassment. “I did spend a few good hours cleaning it too,” he said and flipped the rucksack over.  
“That’s what centuries of hard use tend to do. A very nice hue to it, don’t you think? Must have been brighter at some point.”

The leather was a slightly discoloured shade of smokey blue, and Loki’s blue knuckles were turning white from how tightly he held on to the bag with one hand.  
His nails dug into the cracked and worn material, but it was obvious that he had spent a long while scrubbing and oiling it to salvage it as best he could.

“Well,” Loki said, and it was not a curious question anymore. He cleared his throat lightly. “What do you call this thing?”

“It’s a miner’s bag,” Bragi said, grinding his teeth and looking at Loki from under his brows. Loki looked straight ahead, but his face was still stern.  
“Why?”  
“Because it is made from… a very durable leather.”  
“Capable of surviving radical temperature changes and not a small amount of magic. Yes. And what else do you call it?” Loki asked.  
“A treasure hunter bag - are we in a miner school now? Loki, see here -”  
“And what is it made of?” Loki snapped and the surface of the table creaked when a thin layer of hoarfrost covered the spot around Loki’s seat. He barely managed to rein in his outburst, but his voice was unsteady even after a deep breath. “The leather of what?” he asked and looked around.  
“Loki…” Freyr took a deep breath. “Perhaps it was a frost beast of some kind, and besides, these’ve really fallen out of fashion a long time ago, and we should lief focus on the matter at hand,” he said in a very purposefully patient tone.

“ _Manhide_ is what they call it in Jötunheim!” Loki barked and shoved the bag to the centre of the table. The map of Yggdrasill over the meeting board blinked out.

“Norns…”  
Freyr stared at Loki, Baldr stared at the bag, and Bragi averted his eyes. Loki returned to glaring at nothing, somewhere through the wall. Tyr brought a hand up to his forehead and Forseti closed his eyes with a heavy breath.  
“Councilman Bragi?” Forseti asked, almost hiding the change in the pitch of his voice.  
“Norns, I said.”  
“And why might that be,” Loki choked out. He blinked a few times before glancing towards Bragi. “Because you find the material ugly, or because you’re looking at a dead man on the meeting board?” he asked. “Or, as our good Lord Freyr helpfully provided -”  
“Because this is irrelevant and -”  
“IT IS NOT IRRELEVANT,” Loki barked and rushed as close to Bragi’s throat as he could get from across the table. Tyr spread his arms to stop him from actually climbing over. Loki took a deep, hitching breath and let it out in a nervous huff.

“Can you not see? Look at this thing!” he asked and looked around, trying to keep his voice under control. Forseti was giving him a placating look, but it did nothing.  
“I walked into a - if not the most - regular shop that you can find that sells leatherwork to people, and this,” Loki said, pointing at the bag, and then actually dragging it back into his better reach. “This is the first thing that I saw. This- the…” His voice died out and he worked his jaw, but couldn’t say anything for a while.

“Loki,” Tyr said carefully, waiting for him to let got of the bag and look up again. “Thank you. You don’t have to do this now. Let it be for a time, and we will all rest over it for a night.”  
Loki only looked at the old general with a confused little frown, lips parted.  
“It was a long time ago, and you must admit that you’re not quite… bringing anything new to the table,” Tyr tried again.  
“What?” Loki asked. Then he let out a short laugh that bordered on hysteric.  
“Look at me in the eyes and say that again. Nothing new? I am bringing you a new table altogether, no, I am bringing you back the old table that you’ve covered up with a few nice embroidered cloths and a nice serving of wine and pastries,” he said, working himself up more and more with each word until he was spitting them out.  
“Clearly, this is a matter of further planning and foreign dignitary reinforcement -” Forseti suggested, but was cut off by Loki slamming the bag and his hands against the table, steel clasps and heavy straps hitting against the hard surface that was once again groaning from frost.  
“I AM A FOREIGN DIGNITARY,” he yelled. 

Forseti leaned back. Loki took a deep breath, but it was clear that it wasn’t really helping.  
“On this matter, I am one. This is - I could…” He looked at the manhide bag, blinking like he was trying to make out something strange. After a moment he quickly let go of it, folding his hands behind his back and pulling himself straight.  
“How can you - or we - even talk about ‘inter-realm relationships’, when people are… regular people out there, selling and wearing each other as accessories?” he asked. It was an honest question even if he didn’t meet the eyes of the rest of the Council.

“...how in the nine did you…?” Baldr whispered. He cleared his throat and tried again in a louder voice. It was still strained as he ran a hand through his white curls. “I’m sorry, I was…” he looked down for a moment before slowly standing up.  
“With your permission, chairman, excuse me. Could we call a break now? I think we could all use it.”  
“Yes, Baldr, I agree with you,” Forseti said and nodded slowly. He stood up and straightened his robes carefully.  
“Thank you, Secretary Loki, for this… surprisingly unpleasant but… very strong opening for our new theme,” he said. “With the permission of the Council, I suggest that we meet again in here after an hour of lunch and some… reorganising of our own separate thoughts on the matter. We shall reassemble soon.”  
“Aye,” Bragi grumbled, getting up and heading for the door.

Loki sat back down and didn’t move for a good while, save for the slow rubbing of his hands, as he stared holes through them.

/ / / /

“I brought you something so you don’t wither away,” Baldr said quietly, pushing a small folded package of bread and spiced fruit into Loki’s line of sight. He pulled back a corner of the bench and sat down, still keeping a safe distance while he studied Loki’s blank face. Loki barely nodded to him.

“Are you all right?” Baldr asked quietly. “I mean, I’m not that good at seeing the difference from… your face, yet, and from what I’ve seen you’ve always been of a monochrome sort. But you do look a little… pale.”  
“Mhm,” Loki replied. Baldr frowned.  
“Loki?”  
“Yes. I am… in perfect health, body and mind,” Loki rushed to add with a strained little quirk of his lips.  
“That doesn’t mean you’re not uncomfortable,” Baldr said, trying to prompt out a bit more natural response with a lift of his brows, but Loki didn’t reply. 

“Why did you… how did you even get this into your head?” he asked and sighed, gesturing carefully towards the bag that lay still in the middle of everything. The thin veins of frost around Loki’s seat had already melted away.  
“I… wanted to find him,” Loki said. Both looked at the bag for a moment. 

“I know hi - of him. The ridges, they’re… these things,” he said, stretching the skin on the back of his hand with a thumb. Baldr leaned a bit closer when Forseti entered the room.  
“They run in the family?” he asked, lowering his voice a little. Loki nodded.  
“I know his kin and I… wanted to find him for them. His daughter and grandsons, they… I found him.”  
“His -? This, you mean that… you’ve…” Baldr stuttered. He looked at the bag and let out a shaky breath. “Dear Urd.”  
“Have dined with them, actually. Lived with them. The whole clan,” Loki said and nodded again, clearing his throat a little. “He was skinned and mauled, they say, in that order.”  
“Okay, I don’t, really… I mean…” Baldr mumbled and covered his face with a hand. “Ooh, I think my lunch is coming back up,” he whispered.  
“Not your fault. I think,” Loki replied, before letting out a weak laugh. “I mean, the lunch, that definitely is. But not this.”

“Might actually be more mine,” he said after a while. Baldr lowered his hand and frowned.  
“Shut up,” he said. “I know that there are actual reasons some might not like you, but you’ve done more today than anyone else has done in the last half a century. If that’s not repentance, I don’t know what is.”  
“Hardly enough,” Loki snorted back and Baldr shrugged.  
“I never made the claim that it was. But it is a start,” he offered. Loki nodded, weighing his words for a while.  
“I suppose I should thank you.”  
“Oh, but that’s generous coming from you,” Baldr said, “Seeing as I brought you some lunch to throw up as well.” He shoved the sandwich again. Loki looked at it like he was seeing it for the first time, but his frown was more of an attempt to hide his wry smile.

“Actually, you should come and stop by at the borough hall someday,” Baldr said when he stood up. Loki was half-heartedly peeling back the wrapping around his bread before wrinkling his nose and looking at Baldr.  
“The borough hall?”  
“Yes,” he replied. "Northeastern. The wheatfield district." Loki shook his head and laughed.  
“You’re trying to convert me into your…?” he asked. Baldr made a mock-innocent face at him.  
“My what? My wish to see all citizens survive in this Realm?" Baldr asked. "Well, you must see as clearly as I do that the absolute monarchy hasn’t really done us that much good. Has it? Exploited other people, covered up all ugly memories…” he said. Loki didn’t quite nod, but didn’t shake his head either.  
“It seems you might have some evidence speaking for your cause,” he agreed. Baldr shrugged.  
“...And raised up a few blood-hungry lunatics and their friends to be our future leaders,” he said and smiled. “With all due respect.”  
“Why thank you. I’m almost touched.”

/ / / /

Rain was pattering against the sealed windows and wind groaned as it raced past the palace. Morning light had since long disappeared behind a thick blanket of clouds, and even the greater planets and stars were hidden from view.

“...and that is why things like these should be discussed inside the different collegiums first. To gather more people willing to take part in the discussion beforehand. And only then proceed with the Greater Council of the Realm,” Bragi said, buried so deep in his own argument that his face was nearly as red as his hair. “I do not want to hear any idiot from the… from wherever, whether a farmer or a miner or a scholar, trying to stand up for some completely misinformed opinions of our history!”  
“And that is a good note to end this meeting on. Thank you, Bragi. And thank you all,” Forseti said, raising his hands before anyone else had a chance to add their last words. Bragi threw his hands up i the air, but gave up quickly - all the rest sighed in relief and stood up from their seats.  
“Please, do come up with some good ideas, and we will redraft directions and plans for further action tomorrow. Freyr is to be away in Alfheim for the day after tomorrow. I declare this meeting over and done with.”

Tyr and Freyr left, discussing the practical issues in hosting elves in the palace, fickle things as they were. Loki was handling the jötunskin miner’s bag with a great deal more care than he had in the morning.

“Back to shower me with encouraging words of compassion?” he asked when Balder stopped by his side.  
“Not really,” Baldr said and let out an exhausted huff. “I was going to say that you’ve dug quite the pit for all of us and dragged us down with you. But it can be good sometimes,” he said. “Despite what Bragi says.  
“Bragi and Freyr are quite good at digging their own pits,” Loki agreed.  
“Then the rest of us just have to stand our ground. Also, about that borough hall -”  
“I will be busy, whenever it may be you’re going to suggest that I stop by,” he declared. Baldr started to argue, but Loki stopped him with a sharp hand gesture and looked at him in the eye. Baldr shook his head.  
“As you wish,” he said. 

“But think about it. You could even come in on a… rather regular day. A guild meeting, perhaps, or an evening of community funded projects. This wednesday?” Baldr suggested when Loki got up and wrapped the manhide inside a spelled pocket in between realities. When it vanished he stared at his hands for a moment, before sobering up again. He made a wry sound.  
“Seat me in between the Master of Saddlemakers and the borough school’s headmaster? I doubt anyone would enjoy that.”  
“Well, they do say you’re good with horses…” Baldr said.  
“Do you want me suffocate you with a dead man’s hide?” Loki asked and narrowed his eyes. “I can summon it back.”  
“That was harsh,” Baldr said. Loki lowered his hands and stepped away from the table.  
“Yes, well, I have had a rather long week,” he said.

”I thank you, but I must politely decline the offer,” Loki added when he turned to nod his goodbyes and headed for the door.  
“The offer still stands,” Baldr called after him.  
“Of course it does,” he yelled back over his shoulder, but couldn’t quite keep the corners of his mouth from quirking.

/ / / /

The tavern was full to brim, and smelled of life in all its stuffy warmth. People of all ages and from at least three different realms were gathered around packed tables. A jug of ale was raised, a child was giggling somewhere, a dark woman from Vanaheim was explaining something with fierce hand gestures to the black-haired dwarf lady beside her.

“Hello Baldr.”  
“Norns! Loki, you… Loki. I’m impressed to see that my offer was good enough to get you here.”  
“Yes, well, I was in the neighbourhood. Near. I was… passing the neighbourhood.”  
“And I see you’ve even dressed down for the occasion, admirable.”  
“Naturally." 

"Well? What is all this nonsense going on in here.”  
“We’re just starting a speech that the schoolmaster has prepared, some starting points for a discussion regarding the supplies of our borough school.”  
“School supplies?”  
“Did you think that the collegiate of culture only funds poetry, craftsmen and witches?”  
“No, I - That isn’t what I meant. But really, he comes here to talk to the whole borough about books and pens?”  
“She. Of course she does, it’s a common thing we should be taking care of. And better care than at present, mind you, but Bragi is stubborn as a hellhound and refuses to see sense. The Southern Harbour children’s school is thinking of filing in an official complaint too.”

“...Ooh, did I hear you curse a colleague?”  
“You should stop by more often to hear me curse you as well.”


End file.
